Among the Sheltering Trees
by Alice2006
Summary: My first attempt. Based on Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. A very sincere thank you for the reviews. I likely would have gone on for months tinkering with the last two chapters, but a recent injury and arm in a cast encouraged me to finish it already.
1. Chapter 1

Looking back, he should have guessed it would turn out this way. Still, his younger brother turned up without warning, with a seven year old barely recognizable as a little girl. John's brother told him their father was ill, and that their older brother was too busy to care for her. Their other brothers were too young, too irresponsible. Quite without his consent, John was to be responsible for raising his young sister.

She had come to their parents late in life. John was the second oldest of five boys, and he was already grown and living on his own when his mother sent word. It had been a bittersweet time, his mother too old for child-bearing, yet so excited at what she saw as a blessing. She had survived the birth, but only barely. His father had named the babe Mara, which he understood to mean bitter.

John had thought of his sister little over the years, busy with his own life and trying to make his way in the world. His father was a cooper by trade, and though John was not to inherit his father's business, he was handy and easily able to find work. (John's keen interest in filling the barrels had also earned him many easy friendships.) John had managed to make a stable home and life for himself. His thoughts had begun to turn to starting his own family when his brother had shown up.

Their father had taken ill, apparently, and their oldest brother was taking over the family trade. The girl was too much of a burden, and John was by far in the best position to actually care for the child. John had been shocked at the sight of her. He recognized his father's green eyes and his mother's chin in the impish little face, but this was overwhelmed by curly mass of unwashed and uncombed hair. The girl was almost feral, a wild thing created from the neglect of their grieved father and the torment of her older brothers. Whatever question John had of his own ability to care for his sister, he knew he could do no greater harm than had already been done.

She had responded well to him overall. Timid around his loud voice, Mara had mostly stayed to herself, mostly been good. John knew he needed help though. He already had an eye for Fanny. She was thin as a reed, but with a spirit as fiery as her red curly hair. John sought out her help with most tasks relating to the raising of Mara those first months. The child thrived under Fanny's firm but gentle hand.

Mara considered her lot in life greatly improved when she arrived at John's home. Certainly he had a lot more rules that she was accustomed to, but he never teased and tormented her like her other brothers had. Fanny was the closest thing to a mother Mara had ever known, and she loved her dearly. Some days though, Mara would run and hide in the woods, trying to escape Fanny and her dreaded chores and baths.

John had clearly disapproved, but Mara found a kindred spirit in Will. The bastard son of the village weaver, he was always present in the village, but never seemed to belong to it. The other children avoided him or teased him. Mara followed him like a shadow. The older boy first seemed to resent the constant presence of this strange wild child, but grew to appreciate her hero worship. They would spend hours tramping about the village and surrounding forest. Will was older and far more coordinated, and Mara would spend hours imitating his play. Through sheer stubborn determination, she willed her chubby fingers to correctly grasp a skipping stone, and to run fast enough on her short little legs to keep up with Will's long strides. For his part, Will started to bask in her admiration, showing her how he could do three back flips in a row, and how to aim rocks to hit things far away. They would spend hours stacking up sticks and rocks as targets, and then knocking them all down.

The day came when John and Fanny were married. When Fanny moved in, Mara tried very hard to remember how much she loved her new sister, even though Fanny brought with her even more changes. Will began to change too. He started talking about leaving the village, and becoming a great man. He stopped letting Mara tag behind him, and started spending more time with the other boys in the village. Mara was now eight, and Will had just turned eleven. Mara started to dread growing up, because it seemed that people became mean and stupid when they turned eleven.

Fanny asked Mara to help her with the cooking one night. She told Mara a secret, she and John were going to have a baby. Fanny explained that Mara would need to stay home more, to help her out when she couldn't do as much. She needed Mara to behave more like a respectable little girl. Mara tried to be excited, tried to be happy. She saw John's face when Fanny told him the secret, and knew this change would make them both very happy. However, the next day Mara snuck into the woods, and cried as though she were dying. She took off her shoes, climbed a tree, and played in the water, one last time. From now on, she had to behave like girl, and those were things only boys could do. "Just like most things that were fun." thought Mara.


	2. Chapter 2

Will noticed that the boys in the village were more accepting of him as he got older. He wouldn't say they were friends though, and their rough-housing was considerably more rough when he was the target. Something about his history gave Will a hint of scandal, which appealed to the other boys. He was always welcome to join them when they were up to some mischief. Joining them at their families' homes was another matter.

He always felt that he and his mother existed in some strange in-between place in the village. The other women barely acknowledged his mother, and sometimes Will had felt as though he were invisible. No one would talk to him for days at a time, and the only conversation he heard his mother have was negotiating prices for her work. Most of his youth, no one had really treated him badly, and no one had ever accused his mother of any impropriety, though his very existence spoke to it. As the years passed on, Will watched as his mother trudged ever forward in life. She wasn't denounced as a whore, she wasn't welcomed as a fellow. She simply existed. He was fifteen years old when she finally released her tenuous hold on life. She hadn't really been ill. Will felt somewhere inside him that she had died of simple neglect.

They had lived on the verge of outright poverty for as long as Will had remembered. When he was very young, no one had seemed rich, but everyone had seemed to have enough. Things had changed slowly over the years though, and for the worse. There still seemed to be plenty of work to do, but less money and food as a result. It seemed that every year, good men of the village turned to more desperate means to provide for their families. John had been one of the first to become an outlaw. He dared to confront one of the sheriff's toads on new tax. That seemed to be the only thing that was plentiful. Will couldn't even remember what the tax was for, except that it had struck John as ridiculous. John had nearly killed the man when he tried to seize money from Fanny's leather pouch. John was lucky, he got away, but soon had a price on his head. More men had followed, and little hope remained for a better fate for those that remained.

His mother's death left Will in a precarious situation. There had never been much money, but he was left with nothing. There was no work, no means of supporting himself, and no tradesmen had been willing to accept him as an apprentice. He contemplated his options, as he refused to accept a pauper's funeral for his mother. In the end, he made his choice, fully aware of the consequences. He entered into the Sheriff's woods, and killed a deer. He knew it would cost him his freedom, but he found he didn't care. Will took the animal to the butcher in the village and sold it for whatever price he could get. Looking back, Will realized the man had taken pity on him. He must have known the dear was poached, but paid the somber youth a handsome price. He also encouraged the boy to visit the home of John Little. "Fanny, she'll set you right boy."

It took some convincing, but Will finally persuaded the friar in the village to see to his mother's funeral. Will was conscious of her having been religious, and knew it would have been important to her. It hadn't seemed right that she should be buried amongst the ancestors of the villages though. Will arranged for her body to be laid to rest within sight of Locksley castle. It seemed fitting to him, within sight of a different fate, but ever out of reach. Perhaps the friar understood this, or perhaps he felt the woman's soul was already damned and her resting place didn't matter. It made no difference to Will. He had done his best by her. His fate now took him in a new direction.

Will did take the advice given to him and went to see Fanny. Soldiers in the village were beginning to ask questions, and he was aware he would need to leave soon if he hoped to leave at all. The Littles were not a wealthy family, but commanded a great deal of respect. Will entered the cramped home and was greeted by Fanny's stern face. Mara was present, minding a small boy who seemed to be getting into everything. There was another small child on Fanny's hip, and Will couldn't help noticing Fanny's belly swelling again. He was instructed to sit at the table, and the babe was handed of to Mara as Fanny sat and faced the youth.

"So you've poached in the Sheriff's woods, Will Scarlett." It was a statement more than a question. Will nodded silently in response.

"Tis a sad state when boys are initiated to manhood by becoming outlaws and thieves. It always seemed the measure of a man was taken in his abiding by the law, not breaking it. But these are strange and dark days." Fanny's look was dark and distant as she stared into the fire. "I've seen many good men of this village pass through my doors, Will, not to return. Good men. Now your an outlaw, just the same as them. Tell me true, are you fit to join them? I'll aid no common thief."

The emotion welling up in Will's throat surprised him. He tried to steady his voice. "I would have chosen an honest life it were possible." He looked Fanny in the eye. "If doing right by the ones we love means breaking the law, maybe it is best I no longer live among the law-abiding." Fanny nodded in response to the question in her own mind. The boy was strange and filled with anger for certain, but he was honest. And decent. She heard of his mother's burial, and knew the boy likely didn't have a coin left from the deer he poached.

Great bustling movements began, gathering what was needed for his journey out of the village and into the wild. Will noticed that Mara re-entered the main room, helping Fanny in fetching and bundling supplies. She was twelve now, and the chubby clumsiness of her childhood had been replaced with awkward ungainliness of youth. She had grown taller, but it seemed to be all knees and elbows. Will also noticed her silence. Mara was ever obedient to what Fanny said, but said so little in response. There was a hardness to her silence as well, as though she were always just a moment away from yelling out in defiance. The moment never came though, and Mara moved to and fro in the house in her quiet and her unhappiness.

Fanny gave Will very clear directions, and threated his very life if he strayed even the slightest. He shuddered to think what she would have done if he even considered telling. She watched in silence as he set off before the sun rose the next morning. Mara joined her, watching Fanny's face. She knew her sister thought of John when each new man came to their table, looking for help. Mara knew Fanny gave them salvation. Becoming an outlaw was, to most of these farmers, akin to dying. Fanny offered them a chance to join a man they all knew and respected. It wasn't a life they would have chosen, but joining John was a reminder that they were still good men.

She didn't understand how Fanny survived the mornings though. Always, without fail, the wives of the men they sent away would join Fanny in the morning. They asked questions Fanny would not, could not answer. They wept and cried and mourned, usually forgetting that the woman they cried out too had suffered no less than they. Fanny offered what comfort she could, but never wavered in her resolve.

Mara knew John came back from time to time. Fanny's growing belly was testament to that. She knew better than to ask any questions, but when his pack appeared by the hearth, she did her best to watch her nieces and nephews and gather as many extra supplies as possible. It was usually only ever a day that Fanny would spend shut up in her room. Mara would not resent her sister those precious hours. She missed John terribly, and could not imagine the loss Fanny lived with. Mara would make repairs to the bundles of clothing that suddenly appeared, and bake a few loaves of good hearty bread to be taken back to the owners of the clothes.

As the years passed, the men of Sherwood Forest grew to depend on John's visits, as it helped supplement all they now provided for themselves. On occasion, John made one special delivery. Among the loaves of solid hearty bread, baked with the intent to keep over time, there would from time to time appear one small loaf, big enough for only one. As John handed it to him, Will recognized it immediately. The village weaver had been ignored for almost all things, but was grudgingly admired for her skill in making these small, sweet breads. The ingredients were scarce, so the loaves had always been small and infrequent. He would never know the amount of time spent seeking the ingredients out between John's visits. The first loaf had been awful, poorly kneaded and lumpy. Over the months and years, though, the quality improved, and Will could tell no difference between these and the memory of those made by his mother. As a child, it had seemed to him that it tasted like sunlight. He wasn't sure how she managed it, but Mara (he was certain it was Mara) found a way to keep the center warm from the time it left the village to the time John placed it in his hands.

John never begrudged Will this small gift. Though he did his best to treat Will like all the other men, John struggled not to see him as still a boy. He would not do anything to damage this small link to childhood. John noted that Fanny had also taken the boy under her distant wing. The family never had much, but Will was always given equal portion in whatever she could scrap together.

The years trudged ever forward, and Mara felt each new day brought with it new struggles, new horrors. The day came when Wulf was made an outlaw. She could barely tolerate that a price had been placed on the head of the boy she had helped raise since he was an infant. Fanny was inconsolable for weeks. It had fallen to Mara to prepare him, help him gather supplies. Fanny ultimately spoke with the child, directing him on how to join his father. Thankfully, Fanny's mother moved in with them soon after. Without her help, Mara knew she couldn't have kept the family together. She watched a change take place in Fanny that frightened her. Fanny always had a broad smile and an easy laugh. She eventually came back to them, began eating and talking again. Her face always seemed to wear a hard expression though, and the children rarely heard their mother's laugh again.

It came as a surprise when Fanny began hinting to Mara about settling down and starting her own family. Fanny's brood was more than enough to keep all three women of the house busy, and Mara knew how much her help was needed. Fanny had been subtle at first, mentioning various men that had tried to catch Mara's eye. She became increasingly frank, finally sending the children away for an afternoon, and describing the intense love and bond between a man and a woman. Mara hadn't been too shocked. The walls were too thin to help but notice the mutual pleasure John and Fanny found in each other's company. She knew Fanny wished her well, and wanted Mara to find this for herself. Mara had doubts about losing so much of herself in another person though. Hadn't she seen the careworn looks ever present on Fanny's face, seen how much loss that came from loving someone? Mara had also spent most of the years of her life caring for the children that seemed an inevitable outcome of such a union.

She wondered if the bond between Fanny and John was quite so common. John had a terrible temper, and could have broken the spirit of a lesser woman than Fanny. As a child, Mara had listened in a near terror some nights as the two stood toe to toe, bellowing back and forth in an argument. John would never have dreamed of hitting Fanny though, he respected and loved her stubborn nature too much. Mara had heard stories though, and knew this wasn't true of every man. As she moved through the village, and men tried to approach her, with these thoughts in mind, it had always been easy to turn them down.


	3. Chapter 3

Mara was largely unaware when things began changing direction for the village. There were rumors of a man returning, someone she had never heard of, but understood everyone thought he had died. There were also stories of a painted man. To her, they sounded almost like ghost stories, a good departed spirit fighting the corrupt sheriff. She paid little heed, as there was enough harsh reality to fill her days. Soon enough, things turned for the worse, and came knocking at their door.

First came the sounds. The soldiers had ransacked the village plenty of times, taking what suited them and making a terrible racket. Fanny had the children well trained. At the first hint of their arrival, the older children gathered the younger ones together and all stayed close to their mother. Mara's task was to take whatever valuables they wished to keep and hide it at the bottom of the straw stacked near their house. This done, she quickly joined Fanny at the entrance of the house.

This time, things felt different. Guy of Gisborne was there, for starters. Also, the soldiers were burning and destroying, not just stealing like they normally did. Mara's face wore an expression of shock and distraction as she watched them killing the livestock. She tried her best to follow Fanny's example. Fanny looked hard and defiant as she was questioned. She lied through her teeth, but never batted an eye and never backed down. They burned down the house, not caring to check if everyone was out yet. The sheriff's cousin noted the straw in Mara's hair, and ordered a soldier to check into it. Mara realized they were looking for fugitives when the soldier started stabbing at the pile with a pitchfork. She heard cries and screams, but was unable to process everything she saw and heard. There was so much chaos, blood and destruction. Mara felt numb.

With no village left, and nothing left to lose, the question was raised. Where do we go? Many eyes turned to Fanny. She could see no harm now. The soldiers had gone, and no one cared if they stayed or left. Fanny signaled to several people to gather together those willing to leave. She gathered her own brood about her, and told them to take whatever they could carry. A good number of the villagers gathered together at the edge of the town. Fanny talked with them about the best way to enter the woods without drawing too much attention. The sheriff's men wouldn't be suspicious of them leaving the village, she reasoned, and they could easily find the path they needed once they struck the main road.

It was to be a hard journey for Fanny. Her belly was heavy and her back ached. Mara still looked shocked from earlier in the day, and it fell to Fanny's mother to keep the children in check. They finally reached the clearing where her husband had lived for years now. She had often imagined it, knowing every step and landmark to reach it, but saw it now for the first time with her own eyes. The pent up emotion from the journey fell away as John reached her. Whatever lay behind them, and whatever was to come ahead, she was grateful for this at least. They were together.

The trek from the village to the forest had done Mara a world of good. For a while, she replayed what she had seen over and over in her mind. The seemingly endless plodding forward was soothing, and as they entered the woods, her mind focused on the sounds of the earth beneath her feet. She followed blindly behind a larger group in front. When they turned off the main road, the deep and heavy scents of the forest arrested her attention. She awoke as though from a deep sleep. She could feel the increase in pace as they neared their destination. It was easy to pick out John, rushing over to Fanny's side. Wulf came next, greeting his younger siblings. Mara looked about them. It was a mixed and emotional reunion, terrible and wonderful. Husbands and wives embraced, absent fathers looked in awe at how much their children had grown. There was palpable loss though, destruction of homes, even some injuries. Mara heard Will before she saw him.

His words were full of anger, and he was doing a fair job of directing all of the tense emotions towards a man who stood apart from them. The man stood calm before them, collected and reasonable before Will's accusations. John quietly explained to Fanny that this was Robin of Locksley, the one who had stolen the Sheriff's horse and cut open his cheek. Mara watched in quiet, observing the man, and his dark companion. She didn't understand Will's increasing agitation with the man called Locksley. His bearing and demeanor commanded respect. She couldn't help feeling that her old friend appeared the petulant child in comparison. When Will pulled out his dagger, Wulf had called out warning. Locksley had put an arrow to his bow before and taken aim before Mara grasped what what happening. Will stood clutching his offending hand. Mara had been thinking of a time Wulf had defiantly grabbed at a hot coal after she had scolded him not to. This was no childish act of defiance though. She could not imagine what drove him to pull a knife on another man's turned back. Locksley had quite a reverse effect on Mara and the others. His words were calming but also uplifting. For the first time, Mara felt herself inspired to imagine her world could be better than it was. She felt lost in this grand, shared vision, eager to contribute to a community built on their own terms.

Lost in the bustle of gathering together supplies, greeting old friends, and general acclimation to their new home, the man called Azeem was seeking out a healer. He was eventually directed to Fanny and Mara. Neither held any official title as a midwife, but Mara had been witness to six of Fanny's seven births. Both had learned a great deal about the healing arts as a result. John was busy gathering together supplies to build a shelter for his family, and the children where doing their best to help, but mostly getting in the way in their eagerness to be near their father. Fanny was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. She sat quietly, watching her family, openly together for the first time. When Azeem asked for assistance, she asked Mara to go in her stead. The girl wondered what aid the man could possibly need, but followed obediently. Leading her to the edge of the clearing, Azeem suddenly stopped and pressed something into her hand. Looking down, Mara recognized some familiar healing herbs, but some that were unfamiliar to her.

"Crush them with a small amount of water to make a thick paste." he directed her. "Place it over the wound, and bind it with a piece of clean linen." This last item was also placed in her hand. Mara wondered if she should feel guilty. She hadn't thought of Will once since he rushed into the woods.

"He will have gone to the water. Be careful in breaking the arrow. It will have to be pulled back through. Make certain the break is clean. Now go." Azeem directed the girl towards the spring, roughly the direction the had observed he young man to have gone. He had sworn to protect Robin, and the angry youth might have succeeded in killing him. However, Azeem sensed no true malice in Will. Some damaged pride that he did not understand was evident, but more so hot words born of strong emotion. It struck Azeem that Will's anger would always be more a danger to himself than his opponent.

Mara followed the sound of the brook, and soon found Will. Poised at the edge of the spring, he was working up the resolve to break the arrow. He knew it would hurt worse than the pain of it sticking through his hand, but was also aware it was the only way it would ever heal.

"Hold." It wasn't said loudly, but with enough authority to stop the waring thoughts in his mind. Mara didn't meet his gaze, but moved towards the water's edge. She inspected the arrow and the wound. He had immersed his hand in the water. Likely, the cold had dulled the pain, but it had also soaked the shaft of the arrow, making it more difficult to break. Mara took the small knife she usually carried with her from its leather covering. She bade Will to grasp the side of a large rock by the stream so the arrow lay smoothly against the top. With his hand braced, she did her best to cut the shaft without moving the arrow. The wet wood was difficult, and she heard Will breathing hard, but she soon made a clean angeled tip.

"When it is out, put your hand underwater, and then push the flat of your other palm to the wound, and wrap your fingers round the other side, like this." Mara demonstrated. She let him resolve for himself the act of removing it. She set to crushing up the herbs Azeem had provided with a little water from the spring. She heard rather than watched as Will pulled the arrow back through his hand. His balance was awkward as he leaned over the water, cradling his palm as she had directed. When his breathing became more even, Mara wordlessly directed him to pull back from the water. With the salve ready, she gingerly lifted his fingers back from the wound, applying it quickly to both sides of his hand. She then bound it tightly in the linen strip. Will reclaimed his hand, pulling it back and tentatively bending his fingers. He looked up to thank her, but Mara persisted in refusing to meet his gaze. She gathered together her things, and left the spring saying no further word to him.


	4. Chapter 4

The first weeks in the woods left many undecided if their lot in life had improved or worsened. It had been difficult to gather together enough supplies to shelter everyone, in addition to providing enough food. Safety, and the threat of the sheriff's retaliation weighed heavily on their minds too. As a new village took shape before their eyes, though, there was a shared sense of accomplishment and pride. Individuals were left to use their own good judgment without being told what they could and could not do. Many clever minds were revealed in the planning and construction of the shelters in the trees. Strength was uncovered as the men began learning to defend themselves with bow and blade.

Mara found herself acting a shadow once again. Not to Will. She could not avoid him as his wound needed continued attention. Each time she looked at his hand though, it was a reminder of the strange and angry man he had become. She spoke little to him and avoided his gaze.

No, she found herself a shadow to Locksley's dark companion. Azeem was usually busy in the center of activity, but on occasion, found time to teach her more about herbs and plants. Mara's knowledge had, up until then, been born of necessity. She was intrigued by his knowledge of healing. Azeem found a hunger for knowledge in the girl that had long been neglected by the necessity of her family's survival.

He was also pleased to find the overall acceptance he found among the villagers. Most were tentative at first, but offered their trust and friendship easily in the presence of his calm and intelligent bearing. At a minimum, most presented an attitude that one outcast could claim no superiority over another.

Soon, the raids began. On a good day, the selected men would set out early in the morning, and return by dusk with whatever treasures they had been able to "collect". On a good day, Fanny could pretend it was a normal day in a normal life. The fact that they were stealing nagged at the back of her mind though. She was glad to observe that the hordes of treasure were always taken up to one of the highest shelters in the trees. As the people of the woods excelled in meeting their own needs, there was little want. Robin had also seemed adamant that the point of their stealing was not to live in excess. Fanny was glad to have it out of sight. She was also glad that her neighbors, though awed by the finery they now possessed, seemed content to ignore it. As the raids resulted in larger and larger hauls, accompanied by more and more soldiers, Robin began asking questions; What was the purpose of this treasure, where did the sheriff intend to send it, and in exchange for what. All were good questions, but no answers were yet available. It was at this time that the good friar, drunkenly and boisterously, joined the outlaws.

Fanny approached Robin one morning. It seemed clear to her that what they needed was fresh information. No one had returned to the villages since they had arrived. Sure they heard bits of news here and there, but if they wanted to find out what was happening, hadn't they ought to go to the source?

"And certain the people there can make more use of that gold rather than it wasting away up in the trees." Fanny mused. Robin simply smiled in response.

The next morning, a wagon was hitched up, and a few chosen to accompany Fanny in returning to town. John and Robin joined along, and as Fanny cheerfully doled out the gold they had brought, the two sought out news of Nottingham.

Robin was quiet the entire journey back to the woods. He spoke privately and at length with all those who had gone with them, carefully listening to the conversations they had and news they had learned. He disappeared after the evening meal, reflecting on what had heard, and trying to piece together the larger picture he did not yet see. When the morning came, Robin looked haggard. He bade the men to take on watch of the road without him that day.

John set out with Hal and Ox in the morning. The road was slow, so John returned with word that they would watch in pairs. Will went out to replace Ox, and eventually Bull to replace Hal. Much came after noon to replace Will, and still no travelers had passed by. Will returned feeling stiff in the back and shoulders from sitting at attention for so long. Fanny fed him some cold remains from the noontime meal. It was evident she wasn't feeling well. John bade her over and over to go and rest. Despite how welcome it sounded, Fanny still stayed to finish two small tasks and scold three of her children before finally lapsing into a fitful rest.

The announcement of visitors was a welcome distraction for most. Mara heard whispers that the lady was none other than Marian, the unmarried daughter of the house of Dubois. The Maid Marian was held in great respect among the villagers. While the lady of the house had been hard and uncaring, the daughter had made the Dubois castle a place of refuge after her mother left for London. She was held in great esteem, and there was an almost urgent need to impress the unexpected guest. As Robin showed her around the encampment, preparations were made for the most impressive meal the women of the camp could create from their limited means.


	5. Chapter 5

Mara listened resentfully as a spontaneous archery contest started, which she was not permitted to watch. Fanny had been feeling the first labor pains that morning, and had been in a foul mood as a result. The children, usually content to wander about, playing in the woods and helping the men as they could, suddenly seemed all underfoot. Mara was reaching her wit's end at keeping them occupied and out of trouble, when the Maid Marian and Sarah had arrived. With Fanny shut up in her room, it fell to Mara to help with the additional cooking. She felt both timid and awed by Marian's presence, but was also exhausted and frayed when the meal was finally ready. Robin had left Marian at the foot of the trees. The other girls, also timid of the finely clad lady, begged Mara to invite Marian to freshen before the meal.

The unattached women of the woods had reached an unspoken agreement to house together in one of the shelters in the trees. Mara had joined them, grateful to leave John and Fanny's shelter that seemed to be filled to the brim with little ones. She still spent most of every day with Fanny, and sometimes missed the familiar noises of her brother's family at night. In truth, the girls she now lived with could be much more disruptive, giggling about men well past hours Mara would have gratefully sunk into sleep. Mara had learned secret little hints of the feminine from the girls though. Fanny had no patience for foolishness, and Mara was certain that is exactly what she would have thought of the little vials of flower scented water hidden in their shelter.

Mara approached Marian awkwardly. She became painfully aware of the sweat on her face, skin tanned from long hours in the sun, and the tiny holes in her skirt from standing too close to the hot coals of the fire. Marian greeted her with a sincerely warm smile though. Mara made her offer, feeling more ridiculous with each word. "M'lady, you would be welcome to our supplies to freshen before dinner. Such as they are." She felt her cheeks redden.

"Happily", came the reply. Marian strode next to the girl, and was joined by her lady in waiting. As they walked toward the shelter where the other girls had brought fresh water and their secreted perfumes, Marian asked after Mara, her name and family. It soon came out that Fanny was married to Mara's older brother.

"I've heard a great deal of Fanny." Marian smiled.

"She has such great respect for you!" Mara stopped to look her in the face. "Fanny always says you do right by the people, helping those we can't find ways of caring for. You may remember Edward and Elaine. Fanny nearly came to wit's end trying to think of how to help them. A neighbor told them to come to you, and you were able to help them when no one else could."

Marian stopped short. She remembered Edward and Elaine, though they had come to her months apart. Edward had come to her home in desperate straits. Injured in an accident with a horse and cart, his leg had been badly crushed. The bone had eventually healed, but he would never be able to stand or walk correctly again. It would have meant death for him but for her. Marian had offered him a home and honest work. Marian had actually left him that morning in the stable, caring for the horses that he loved as though they were children.

Elaine had been a very different situation. The villagers had known her as a silly girl far too taken with fairy stories and a want for romance. She thought herself in love with a young rouge who came to the village after wandering his way halfway through England. Too late, Elaine began to see the solid boundaries that separate reality from fancy. A child was forming within her, and she was left to face the shame alone as the young man continued his journey through the other half of the country. Fanny had done her best to help the girl, giving her work as it was available and sheltering her from the scorn of their neighbors for as long as possible. As Elaine's body began to betray her secret, there was nothing more Fanny could do without bringing Elaine's shame into her own home. She sent the young girl to Marian. For her part, Marian had sensed certain questions were better left unasked. She sheltered the girl until the child was born. When Elaine and her baby were able to travel, Marian saw to it she was sent to a new village far from Nottingham. Elaine began a new life, introduced as a respectable yet unfortunate young widow left with a newborn, and a meager dowry. Marian heard word that the girl had been married to a tradesman there.

Marian smiled at the thought of them. "It seems that Fanny and I are two sides of the same coin."

If Marian and Sarah were amused by the display of meager airs the girls offered, their gracious attitude never betrayed it. Marian complemented each of the homemade scented waters, and Sarah insisted each of the girls be washed up and fussed over like a proper maid of the King's court. While the other girls delighted in these attentions, Mara felt like melting into the earth with embarrassment. She knew she was no great beauty. Her smile was still impish, her hair always unruly. Sarah sensed the girl edging away, and pulled her into her full attention. She encouraged the others to leave them for a while, and set to brushing out Mara's obstinate hair.

"Why is such a pretty young girl so resistant to being fussed over?" she mused aloud.

"Beauty fades. What are we left with but broken bodies, absent husbands and hordes of crying babies?" There was more bitterness in Mara's voice than she intended.

"Is this how you view marriage Mara?" asked Marian.

"It is hard to imagine anything other than what I have seen." came the quiet reply. The younger girl's face brightened. "I sometimes imagine my life was more like yours. A home of my own, with no brother or husband to answer to, providing refuge to those who needed it."

"Indeed it must sound appealing. Alas, I too am held to live my life as others define it." Mara gave a look of surprise.

Marian continued, "The time must come when I must also marry. Perhaps for love, but more likely to make a political connection for my family. And how such a man would tolerate my work remains to be seen. Likely, I will spend the rest of my days making a pretty ornament for his arm and trying to bear him sons. We are none of us guaranteed to be spared an unhappy fate Mara."

"Listen to the pair of you," blustered Sarah, "talking like a couple of nuns."

"Nay! Not such a fate for I!" said Mara "There is enough poverty for the having without taking a vow for it!"

"I could not tolerate the obedience." There was a playful smile on Marian's lips.

"Chastity." Sarah said with a sigh.

"Sarah!" Marian's voice was shocked.

Mara laughed like she hadn't for years as Sarah tried to explain that, though she was a godly woman, she eagerly looked forward to the day she herself might take a husband. Marian noticed that something in the girl's countenance softened. Though-out the meal, Mara's smile came more easily and her manner appeared less tense.


	6. Chapter 6

There were many contented sighs after the meal. Despite limited means, the meal had seamed a feast compared to the normal fare. As the fires were lit, there were stories, and soon enough music and calls for some of the more gifted signers to share favorite songs. Will sat in silence, apart from the others.

For a time, living among the other outlaws, he had begun to feel some sense of belonging. Granted, it hadn't been a charming life, but the men had depended on each other, and on him. Great changes had happened among these trees though. The construction of this forest village was testament to that. Again though, Will felt his existence ceding to the margins. Locksley had come to Sherwood with grand visions, and Will grudgingly found he respected Robin's leadership. Despite the horrible beginning, he felt Locksley was growing to respect him. Will participated equally in all tasks asked of the men, and showed increasing skill in fighting with a sword. Sometimes he longed to throw himself headlong into this grand vision that they could unseat this tyrant, that they could win against the sheriff and right all the wrongs they had suffered. Many unhealed wounds lay too close to the surface though. The hurt done to his mother, that his existence was never acknowledged, the quiet hell of living every day knowing he belonged nowhere.

Wulf's voice pierced the quiet mood of the night. Mara had sent him to find any help possible. She had gone to check of Fanny after dinner, to bring her some water and gage how far the labor had progressed. What she found terrified her. She had seen enough of birth to know something was wrong. Fanny was having pain that indicated the baby should soon be arriving, but her body was all wrong. Her skin was hot, and the pain seemed worse than Mara ever remembered it in the past. Mara was relieved when Azeem arrived, and even more grateful when Marian persisted in ushering John outside. It was clear Fanny's survival of this birth was not certain, and clear heads were needed.

Azeem explained that the baby had not turned. Mara had never witnessed such a thing. He explained what needed to be done, but urged her to leave. "I could not ask you to witness such a thing and still be of any aid to her. Twill be alright." Mara consented provided she could do some small thing to be of aid. Azeem directed her to gather certain plant leaves and flowers. Mara recognized them for their strong astringent properties. Azeem was always stressing to her the importance of keeping wounds clean. She left the shelter and rushed into the woods, but couldn't escape the sounds of Fanny's screams. Mara returned quickly with the requested items, and tried to calm her mind by preparing them. She watched as her brother went nearly mad, listening to what must have sounded like death to him. John had not been present for the births of any of his children. Mara was wondering if this was a blessing or a curse when the sounds of crying came. There was no barring John from the door at that point, and Mara followed behind him. She witnessed something missing from every other birth she had aided.

There was a look of love between John and Fanny that moved all present nearly to tears. John, big and gruff, looked tenderly over the infant, blessing each little finger and toe. Fanny looked exhausted, but happy. When John rushed out to introduce the little one, Fanny laughed. A hearty, sincere laugh Mara had not heard in ages.

She stayed with Azeem for a while, observing how he tended Fanny's cuts. Thinking back, it occurred to her that this most traumatic birthing was the one Fanny recovered from most quickly. John soon returned to her side with the baby, and Fanny, surrounded by her family, fell into a peaceful sleep.

Stepping outside, the music had started again with renewed energy. There was dancing and laughter, and Mara felt a sudden desire to be part of it. With an easy smile, she joined in with some of the other girls in dancing. In the excitement of it, she almost hadn't seen him walking away. Mara apologized to those next to her and lightly followed, almost dancing herself.

Will was walking away from the fires. Mara caught up to him and lightly touched her hand to his elbow. She felt full of nothing but good feelings, hardly remembering why she she had felt angry with him, seeing only her childhood friend before her.

"Don't go, Will." she smiled.

He said nothing in response, but his look was sufficient. All of the anger, hurt, rejection, and rage had risen to the surface. It was a severe check to the blissful feelings that had consumed her, but Mara persisted.

"Please, stay."

"I don't wish to be around others just now." His voice was surprisingly controlled, but raw with emotion.

"Please. Dance with me." Mara's smile was waning, a dying candle flame against the dark. Will turned and walked away from her.

She paused to consider. Her expression was hardened into a smile, and she returned to the music and dancing. She supposed that she did have fun despite everything, but her smile was not the easy carefree one from earlier in the day. She danced as long as there was music, but only out of determination not to be hurt by this slight.


	7. Chapter 7

Morning seemed to come like an interruption to a lovely dream. The dawn seemed misty and damp. The guests from the day before had left before most had risen for the day, and some felt that they must have drempt it. Other were left dealing with the very real results of the visit.

The day had started badly for Mara. She had fallen asleep out of sheer exhaustion that night, and slept fitfully and uncomfortably among the other girls. Rising in the morning, she felt stiff and unrested. She arrived to help in making the morning meal, and was confronted with a subdued debate about supplies. No one begrudged the extra attention to the meal the night before, but it left a significant dent in the more favored food supplies. The women dreaded the response to the meager, unexciting morning meal.

It was also soon discovered that the girls had taken a great deal of the fresh water supply in their effort to impress Maid Marian. As most of them had slept overly late and Mara was the only one available, she was made responsible for refilling the depleted water. She took some of the water skins and jars, hoping to carry more and make fewer trips. As she tripped her way through the shelters toward the spring, she spotted Will, looking in a much better mood, and well rested.

In fact, his mood had improved considerably. He spent needed time walking out his frustration and anger. He had still avoided the others, going back to his hut to sleep early. He felt something like guilt at his brusque response to Mara though. Meaning to make amends, he approached her with her obvious burden in an effort to lend a hand. Her mood was dark though. Tired and sore, her ego had also been bruised. She brushed past him, doing her best not to slow down. Unfortunately, she dropped a jar, and in trying to pick it up dropped two skins as well.

"Mara, please. Let me help." Will leaned down to retrieve the lost articles.

"Your assistance is neither requested nor desired." Mara snatched them up before he could grasp them and resumed her trek. She reached the water's edge with Will still following her.

"You're being ridiculous. Let me help and you might make it back in one trip." By this time, several curious on-lookers began seeking out the sounds of argument.

"I'm ridiculous!" Mara spat back. She walked back and snatched from his hands another jar that had fallen. "It is nearly mealtime, isn't that your signal to storm off into the woods?"

She reached the water's edge. He persisted in following her and Mara had unintentionally stepped into the water walking away from him. It was cold from the chill night air, but she began filling jars, determined to show no sign of it.

He followed her into the water anyway. She was being obstinate, and he felt himself getting frustrated. What had started as a sincere offer to help had turned into a battle of wills, and he was determined now that he would help her. He picked up a jar and began filling it. Mara dropped the skin she had been filling to grab it from his hands.

"I wouldn't want to keep you. I know you have a very busy day of brooding and sulking ahead of you."

Robin had been at the other side of the stream, where the water fed into the lake. He had been following the sound of rising voices, and along with a few others stepped into a clearing to hear Mara shout these words. The young sister of John Little had struck him as she had many, a dam ready to burst. All her thoughts and feelings had been stored away, unspoken for so long. There were a few laughs at Will's expense, but Robin was worried Mara might not be able to curb her own torrent of suddenly released emotion.

"You're being childish, Mara." Will was definitely angry at this point. He stepped further out into the water, unsure at this point if he wanted to help her or clamp his hand over her mouth. Mara was now waist deep in the water, having ventured out to retrieve the skin now floating away from her.

"Childish, of course." Her normally low, quiet voice was becoming higher as she muttered to herself. She stepped further out to retrieve the water skin floating away from her. "I do act like a child, and perhaps I should act fully a child." She turned on Will suddenly.

"And so should you."

The contents of the half-filled container were suddenly thrown at Will's face. Standing there, dripping and cold, he looked at Mara. The angry frown was cracking, and a suppressed smile fighting to get out. He responded quickly, cupping his hand across the top of the water and sending a wall of water at her.

In the ensuing splashing and yelling, Robin felt a wave of relief. Two angry adults had been replaced by two childhood friends, even if one of them was trying to knock the other's feet out from the other and send them fully in the water. Both were soaking, laughing and yelling when John finally burst into the clearing. It was unclear if John was more worried or angry when he realized what was happening. As he blustered and yelled at them to get out of the water, it was clear Will and Mara were snapped back to reality. They were not children, they were adults, and they were soaking.

The smile faded from Mara's face and she began struggling towards the shore. Will was collecting some of the jars and skins, and offered a hand to her. Drenched, they made their way to the shore, where John was waiting with folded arms. His anger was still in the sputtering phase, and Robin stepped in before he reached the angry tirade phase.

"Mara, have a care. You'll catch your death out here." He slipped a cape over her shoulders and firmly directed her back to her shelter. Mara, very aware Robin was giving her a pass from her brother's anger at her impropriety, quickly and quietly took her leave.

"You..." John focused his attention on Will.

"...ought to find a dry change of clothes as well. And we may as well take these on our way." Robin physically stepped between John and Will as he directed the younger man back towards his own shelter. He took several of the skins and jars with him.

"You'd do well to think more about how much it would hurt if John hit you." Robin stated as he walked with Will. The young man's eyes had drifted in the direction Mara had taken. He tried very had to think about how cross John had looked, and not how her dress had clung to her.

It was late that afternoon when he saw her again. The work of the day was over, and everyone was looking forward to an early evening after such a late night the day before. Will was idling time away at the edge of the camp, messing about with a sling Azeem had given him. He wasn't sure why Azeem had made a gift of it, but it was well crafted from a piece of leather. It had made Will think of his youth, as it was a gift he was certain he would have loved as a child. Mara approached him quietly.

"I'm not certain if an apology is owed or due." She stood quietly be the felled tree.

"Indeed." Will felt himself wanting to appear nonchalant, but suddenly felt his posture was very forced.

"An act of kindness was met with undeserved rebuff. For that, I am sorry." Her smile was sincere, but reserved.

Will nodded in response. "Last night, you were being gracious, and my quarrel was not with you. For my behavior, I apologize." Will turned to throwing stones with the sling. Faced with his silence, Mara turned to leave.

"Will you always leave so much unsaid?" His question came as a surprise to her. She turned back.

"What do you mean?"

"A question to a question." He continued throwing rocks, but looked at her between throws. "I mean, you carry with you something that clearly bears heavy on your mind. Some days I think you will break under the weight of it, or scream out in anger from it, but you never do. I wonder if you will always leave it unsaid."

"An interesting question from you." She smiled in response to his sharp look. Mara picked up several stones herself and began aiming at the targets in the distance. "Very well." She took a deep breath.

"I think about what the future might hold, and I feel hopeless. The options available seem to be to die a lonely spinster, or to live in poverty with a broken body and a horde of brats. I am caught between the life of an outlaw and a peasant, and I feel guilty for wanting more."

Will looked at his friend with new eyes. It simply hadn't occurred to him that a woman wouldn't want to be married and have lots of babies. He continued aiming at targets. "What do you want?"

She gave her most impish smile. "There is the frustration. I don't know."

Will gave her a turn with the sling. "And you? What thoughts do you leave unshared?" She asked.

He gave a pointed look in response. "Oh don't look so surprised." She laughed. "Clearly you harbor some, shall we say, negative feelings. Why?"

It was Will's turn to take a deep breath. "You speak of the future. I sometimes wonder if I will even have one to consider." He looked around him, and turned his attention back to throwing stones. "Living in a forest with a price on my head. I wonder, will I be killed, will l live to be an old, bent man, sleeping on the roots of trees. The future looks pretty bleak from where I stand as well."

The targets had all been knocked down. Mara scrambled over rocks and trees to begin building up more. Will joined her. They began talking about when they were young, and how they spent hours, day after day, engaging in this activity. They again took turns with the sling, talking about their lives since they had moved to Sherwood Forest. Will told her about their adventures on raids on the road. He laughed at her stories about her misadventures in minding her nieces and nephews.

As the sun began to set, the two reached a lull in their conversation. They were sitting side by side on an overturned tree trunk. Will had been swallowing back the question ever since Mara had found him. He was reluctant, but it finally came out.

"Mara, can I ask? Why have you never asked why I had no father?"

Her response was not sarcastic, and there was no hint of her laughing at him. With a simple, sincere smile, she stated, "I suppose because you never questioned why I had no father either." With that she slipped off the trunk, and began to walk towards the shelters.

Will felt somewhat stunned. The story of how she had come to live with Fanny and John had eventually come out when Will joined the outlaws in the forest. She was right though. Will had never asked, never acknowledged she had lost both her parents. He realized that all of these years, she had been living with her own pain, unacknowledged by her friend.

"I'm sorry..." he called out, feeling it a pathetic response.

Mara paused and turned. "I am sorry too, Will. I know you have suffered, but you are not the only one to feel life's bitter sting." She turned to continue back.

This cut. Grasping, he retorted, "And you, you think that you can prevent further pain by keeping all at a distance."

She stopped mid-step, but did not turn. He continued, "Mara, life is pain, but if you surround yourself with nothing but silence and caution, you miss all the good life has to offer as well." His words found their mark, though with more ferocity than intended. Without turning, she asked, "Will our parting words always be said in anger?" Her voice wavered at the edge of tears. He hadn't meant to make her cry.

She continued on her way, contemplating what he said. Will, it seemed, was an astute judge of character. He was right. Looking back at all she feared and dreaded, Mara realized, she took measure of her life based on pain and loss. She had few close friends, and feared allowing herself to care too much about anyone. Mara found her way to Fanny's front door. Fanny saw that the girl was close to tears, and brought her inside. Mara sobbed into her arms. Fanny never learned what caused her to cry, but it was the first time in a very long time Fanny felt Mara letting down her guard, letting herself need someone.

That night, Will, for the first time in years, allowed his thoughts to drift towards his mother. Something of how he saw Mara responding to pain and loss reminded him of her. For the first time, he tried to imagine her life not as he saw it, but perhaps as she had experienced it. Her lack of friendships and human interactions made more sense to him in this light. When Will's father had sent her away, the rejection must have been unbearable. He wondered if she had also thought she could prevent further pain by withdrawing from the world. He sometimes wondered why she had even told him who his father was. She had managed to avoid this question for years, but what made her decide to tell him on his tenth birthday, he would never understand. He was also always uncertain what he was supposed to do with this information. He knew who Lord Locksley was, and for a while labored under the false fantasy that, when his father learned of his existence, he and his mother would be swept away to live in Locksley Castle like a prince and a queen.

His mother, finally unable to bear his boyish fantasies, brusquely told him. "He knows." It was all she ever said on the matter, "He knows."

Will grew bitter. No one in the village knew, as she had moved there after Will was born. There were hints of the scandal, but no one knew the details, and most villagers were content to let them live in peace. Will struggled with his unintended existence, that a different fate was always just out of his reach. He was embarrassed to admit it, but for years, he would still sometimes imagine life as an acknowledged son of the Lord Locksley. It was usually at night, just before falling asleep, he would imagine a life of comfort with a bright and happy future extending before him. He refrained from such fantasy now. Will found that it did nothing but make his reality seem more harsh, the ground more uncomfortable as he slept, his belongings more pathetic, and hope harder to find.


	8. Chapter 8

Dawn came bleakly that morning. Though the sky brightened, the sun never fully came out, and the air felt damp and chill. Mara had stayed with Fanny and John that night, and was struggling to light their morning fire. It seemed all smolder and smoke, and Mara was desperate for the light and heat. Her little nieces were huddled about her knees, still rumpled and sleepy from being woken that morning. If their proximity was inhibiting her progress, Mara found she was grateful at least for their company.

She saw in the distance that people were crowding to the edge of the clearing. Too far away to see what was happening, she did note that the lookouts had sent alarm. Mara knelt down to her oldest niece, and instructed her to go get Fanny and to help with the little one. Trying to maintain her composure, Mara instructed the others to stay close, and stepped away to hear better what was happening. Before going too far, she heard the shout, the intruder was Duncan. She felt herself calm and her sense of panic ease. Surely, she thought, Duncan's arrival was no reason to get herself worked into a panic. She had returned to the fireside when the sounds of arrows whistling through the forest reached her. Mara felt she was in a horrible dream. Looking around, she saw the looks of horror on the faces of those around her. She heard the growing sound of shouts and war cries in the distance.

Fanny came rushing out at that point. Her expression was full of panic, but also full of anger. She and Mara were sending the children up the nearest ladder when the cry came, "To the trees!" Fanny was struggling up the ladder with the baby strapped in a sling across her chest. Waiting, Mara noticed the men gathering their weapons, grabbing extra arrows. She knew they would fight valiantly to protect their home. Before she made her way up the the shelters in the trees, she grabbed as many rocks and pebbles as she could stuff into her pockets. She didn't have a rational explanation as to how this was to match the weaponry now advancing towards them, but thought it couldn't hurt her at this point.

When she made her way up to the shelter above, she and Fanny began pulling up the rope ladder behind them. Fanny's mother began herding the children across the bridges, back towards the shelter furthest from the advancing fight. Fanny, naturally, was adamant she stay towards the front and help as best she could. Mara, trying to fight the sick feeling in her stomach, tried to follow Fanny's example and chose to stay as well.

The first wave of the attack came in a cacophony of sounds and smells. The war cry came louder and closer as the Celts advanced. As the outlaws fought back, the yells of attack became indistinguishable from the cries of pain. The smell of blood and death made Mara feel she might be sick.

As the attackers reached the camp, their first priority became securing the bridges and ladders. Fanny began violently beating away where the rope ladders were secured to the shelters and bridges. Mara convinced Beth, one of the girls she had roomed with, to help her pull up the ladders constructed of wood. They were securing the last one, only having started to pull it upwards when the large man began trying to climb up it. Knowing there was no way they could pull it with his weight, Beth switched tactics, trying to push it away. Even with Beth and Mara pushing, the ladder was not moving and the man was advancing, closer and closer.

Seeing him nearby, Mara yelled, "Bull, help us!" He arrived at their side none to soon. The face of the Celt met theirs, just as Bull arrived, hitting him square in the nose. The man fell off, falling back to the ground. The distraction gave Beth enough time to grab a long, sturdy branch. Using this, she and Mara were able to force the ladder back and it also fell, with two others who had been trying to climb up.

Some of the better fighters had advanced to the ground. With archers covering them from above, they were able to meet the advancing Celts face to face. Will was engaged in real life combat for the first time, sword to sword with men who wanted nothing other than his death. The practice he had had been helpful, but was no comparison to this. He tried to stay close to the shelters above, as the archers were picking off many of these hired killers, making his work less impossible. However, the direction of the fight kept steering him away. Knowing that if he strayed to far, he would be left to defend himself all alone, Will made a quick dash to the closest shelter he could spot. He noticed that as he got closer, the fighting was much easier. He was confronted by Celts just as eager to kill him, but Will noticed most of them had cuts and wounds on their faces. Their inability to see made them much easier to deal with, and many were withdrawing. When given a moment to look around and take his bearings, Will looked up to see Mara. She was perched on the lowest hanging bridge above him, trying to strike a balance between close to the battle, but out of danger. With a pile of sharp rocks beside her, she was taking aim at the attackers, as well as giving quick aiming instructions to some of the younger boys nearby.

"Good girl," thought Will, "aim for their eyes." He reached to his belt, and found the little leather sling. Shouting her name, he tossed it up to her. When she caught it, he directed her to the other side of the bridge, where the fighting was still intense. With Mara above and Will below, they reached the fray at the height of the battle. The outlaws were proving excellent defenders, and between the swordsmanship below and the archery above, the last of the Celts were soon running in retreat.

Sensing there was more, Robin signaled to let those on the ground back up to the shelters above. The ladders were returned, and Mara wondered if the attack would be over, or if the Celts were simply readying for a different strategy of attack. The sudden smell of fire was the horrifying answer to her question.

When the first fireball came, Mara fell to her belly on the bridge. She tried to scramble forward, but was also trying to stay low to avoid the curtain of arrows sailing overhead. When she finally made it to the shelter at the end, she was confronted by Fanny, looking desperate with worry. "The children."

Together, they started trying to make their way back to where Fanny's mother had taken them. Unfortunately, the shelters and trees were starting to catch fire. Looking below, Fanny noted that the soldiers were now rounding up those trying to escape, but that they hadn't made their way to the back shelters yet. Mara gave a cry of relief when she saw that Friar Tuck had reached the children, and was sheparding them down, into the forest.

Their plan was to cross the bridge and follow after, Fanny insisting Mara go first to safety. She had made it halfway across when it seemed like a boulder of fire fell from the sky. It hit one of the corners of the bridge, knocking it loose and sending Mara reeling. The bridge was still secured at three points, and Mara was trying to decide which way to run. A fire had started at the end she was trying to reach, and as she watched it spread, Mara was confronted by the fact she would likely fall if she stayed where she was. Making a seemingly contrary choice, she started running towards the fire, reasoning she might make it to the shelter in time. She heard Fanny screaming her name, and felt the bridge fall away from her feet. Mara reached out and caught hold of whatever she could of the bridge, hoping she might somehow break her fall. She still hit the ground hard, knocking her breathless and unable to stand.

Unsure how long she had been there, Mara tried rolling to her side and attempting to make her feet stable under her. Her breath was coming, but raggedly, and she was unsure if the fall had done any real damage. Somehow, Will found her, grabbing her shoulder and scaring her breathless again. His look was one of concern. Trying to convey she was alright, Mara pointed in the direction she had seen Friar Tuck go. "Fanny, the children..." was all she managed to croak out. He put his arm around her to support her walking as she started limping in that direction.

Others started in the same direction, falling back from the advancing soldiers. Will and Mara were making slow progress, and saw a few others running ahead of them. Just as they were within sight of the thick safety of the trees, Will heard a yell from the opposite direction. Looking back, they saw Wulf being drug off by a soldier. They also saw Fanny and John heading into the woods, and a few soldiers slowly tracking after them.

Will didn't feel it was a decision even worth debating. He withdrew his arm from Mara, "Go to the woods, and find Fanny and John."

Her look was not one of sadness or melancholy. It was one of simple rage. "I will not argue this with you Mara! Go!" He clasped her face between his hands, kissing her hard on the lips.

"I will find you." With that, he was gone. Mara limped forward among the heavy scented trees, eventually finding her way to a gathering of survivors. She sank into an exhausted heap. She hadn't seem him rush headlong towards a group of soldiers, attempting to take them on himself in order to give others more time to escape. She didn't know if he was alive or dead.

Her skin still felt the tingle of where he had touched her, the scratch of his growing beard against her face, and a feeling of extra warmth where his lips had met hers. The conflicting feelings of pain and elation were making her head hurt. She felt alive, but she felt like dying. She felt injured, but she felt invincible. She felt pain. Finally, blessedly, she fell into a dreamless sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

John brought another man into the make-shift shelter. The man's arm was badly injured, it looked to be the result of a well-aimed sword. John supported the man's weight as he guided him to an empty spot on the ground. Fanny immediately started tending to his arm, examining the wound and tutting at the shirt the man had inexpertly wrapped over it. John was learning tutting was a good sign. It usually meant superficial damage, cuts easily cared for and quickly healed. When they had first started bringing the wounded to Fanny and Mara, there was a lot of somber quiet.

Some of the men, and women, they found had been gravely, gravely hurt. In some cases, the only thing to be done was to make them as comfortable as possible and call for Friar Tuck to tend to their souls. By the end of the first day, John thought Fanny might never smile again. After the initial flood of the badly wounded came the less badly injured though. Here, Mara and Fanny were able to help. Fanny was busy, fussing over the arm and talking to the man when John noticed Mara. She was changing the bandages on another man's back, gently tending to where the skin had been badly burned in the fire.

John noted her hands were chapped and raw from her constant cleaning and washing in boiling water. He also noted her trying not to look distracted. It was clear, however, that her mind was elsewhere. John knew Mara was worried about Wulf, but that her concern for her nephew was not what preoccupied her mind.

It had grown increasingly difficult to deny the reality that Mara was growing up. John had always pictured her as the same awkward child he had left at Fanny's side all those years ago. In his absence, though, she had grown into a young woman. He understood somewhere in his being that she would not remain a child in his home forever, no matter how much he wished it. It was natural that she should marry and start her own life in her own home. However, knowing and accepting are two very different things.

Seeing the way she and Will had looked at each other troubled him. The memory of the two of them, standing before him soaking wet and, he assumed, holding hands, still made him feel hot with anger and frustration. John couldn't pinpoint any specific thing that made him uneasy about Will, but he rather wished Mara was worrying about any other person taken by the sheriff.

It had not always been so between John and Will. He had grown to trust and rely on the boy when he joined the band of outlaws. For certain, Will had been filled with bitterness and malcontent, but John had always attributed it to hard circumstances in an already unhappy youth. The arrival of Robin of Locksley had brought out aspects of Will's character that exceeded John's worst fears.

As he reflected, Mara stood at the fire with her back towards him. John walked towards her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. He wished to say something to comfort her, but nothing seemed appropriate. Mara met his gaze, and tried to give a smile, grateful for the gesture.

"Rest for a moment." he bade her. John put his great arm about his sister's shoulder, and she found herself melting into his comforting and secure presence. He guided her towards the edge of the camp where the fresh water was being collected and stored. Mara took the opportunity to wash her face and take a drink. It would be some time before she ever felt she fully washed away the acrid taste of smoke and smell of burnt hair and flesh.


	10. Chapter 10

It was Robin who first noticed Will's arrival. He was standing at the edge of the clearing, trying to work out how best to approach him. John heard Robin call Will's name, and began walking in that direction. He heard just enough to send his blood boiling. Robin was asking reasonable questions, and though Will wasn't lying, it was clear he was hiding something. John blindsided Will, rushing at him before the younger man could even brace for the impact.

Mara ran after her brother, and Fanny too was following the sound of the altercation. They arrived in time to see John, in an attempt to pin Will down to better strangle him, uncover the wounds covering his abdomen. The sight of the open cuts and blood checked John's rage. He sat back, almost deflated, as all of the anger dissipated. Mara's eyes widened in shock. To her mind, it had for a moment seemed that Will's stomach was covered with red ribbons. Though he was now covering the exposed gashes with his shirt, she thought she could see the blood seeping through.

She tried to process what he said, trying to take in the message he was conveying. The details kept competing for her attention though, and she felt she could take in no further information. Wulf was to be hung. The color drained from Fanny's face. John went to Fanny, and wrapped a protective arm around her. Mara stood, hugging her arms to herself, feeling as though the ground had been pulled out from under her. The nature of the situation confronting them, all of them, was being revealed. The marriage, the executions, and the sheriff's plot. There was more, however.

Robin challenged Will, his intentions, his plan. John half expected a sarcastic retort, a typically Will response. He was surprised by the words he heard.

"That depends on you, Locksley."

The unspoken resentment, almost hatred, was coming to the surface. Will felt far too exhausted to pretend anymore. He started with the obvious, that he had always grappled with his doubts about Robin, that Will did not easily trust a few grand gestures from someone better known to him as a bully. When Robin asked the reason for his hatred and distrust, Will felt exposed and bare.

He was on the verge of disclosing the secret he had quietly maintained for most of his life. It had driven him, tormented him, and also sustained him. It had given him a place to lay all blame for everything bad in his life. It had also, had he been honest, given him a sense of a higher destiny, something to strive towards. And here stood a direct participant in the shaping of his life, asking him why he was so angry.

With a simple reply, Will bared his soul. They shared the same father. Though the nature of the relationship between Will's mother and their father should have sparked some curiosity in Robin's mind, Robin had managed to close the possibility from his consideration. He remained stubbornly ignorant. The more Will spoke, the more upset and angry Robin became. Will was finding catharsis in speaking this truth, the words coming faster. As he challenged Robin's weak protests, Will found a lightness, a release. He gave up the weight of his shame, and laid it down at the feet of this man who, for better or worse, was his brother.

In Will's words, there was a compliment and a challenge. Robin was capable of inspiring even the unwilling, but to lead meant to fully commit. John had asked him before, would Robin join them. Now Will was asking again. Robin looked around him. He felt he had failed these people, and looking at Will, failed in ways he had never realized. They still stood by him though, willing to believe, willing to follow. Robin embraced Will and called him brother. Though he had spoken words of equality, Robin was experiencing it in a way he never knew was missing. He stood amongst them, a flawed human. They were all human, but striving to act with nobility in honor even in the face of the worst circumstances.


	11. Chapter 11

There was a renewed sense of energy, and a great sense of urgency. The men were to be hung at dawn. That left less than a day for the outlaws to regroup, and make their plans. John and Robin started to clear an area to create a replica of Nottingham Castle. Azeem disappeared for a while, taking Friar Tuck with him. At Robin's urging, Will sought out the healing ministrations of Fanny it what remained of her shelter.

As he entered, Fanny began fussing over him, ordering him to sit down and uncovering his concealed wounds. Mara had just returned from fetching more hot water when she caught sight of the gashes crossing back and forth. She clumsily dropped the pot of water next to Fanny, nearly knocking it over as she turned. Fanny nearly thought the girl was fleeing the structure for fear of her life.

Fanny did well in tending to the cuts, but took advantage of the opportunity to ask after Wulf. She barraged Will with detailed questions he hardly knew where to start in answering. He could hardly reproach her concern though. Her child was in danger, and Fanny's devotion was fierce. She asked if Wulf had any scars or cuts, if any old cuts had changed or healed, if his clothes were dry, if he had been left in the cold. Will felt that if Fanny had known the exact number of hairs on child's head, she would have asked if any were missing or out of place.

Will left the shelter feeling exhausted. He was intending to return to the miniature woodblock Nottingham, the location of growing debate and discussion, when he heard the sound of crying. Looking back, he saw that Mara had not gone far in her flight from the shelter. She was slumped against the trunk of a tree, her face buried in her arms, and her body almost convulsing as she wept.

Thinking she was also worried about Wulf, Will silently approached and sat beside her. He felt inept and graceless, but tried to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He'll be alright, Mara. We won't let anything happen to Wulf or to any of them."

Her sobs had stopped when he had arrived. Mara still felt her face hot and wet with tears. She was feeling mortified he had found her, but could not stop the occasional sobs escaping her throat as she hiccuped and sniffed. What she said was lost in the muffle of her arms.

"What?"

"That's not why I'm crying." Her head emerged. There are some who can look beautiful and tragic when they weep. Mara was not one of them. Even as she tried to wipe her face, her nose ran and her eyes were red and hot. She sniffed and hiccuped some more.

Will felt entirely at a loss. He had no idea of what to say or do. His hand remained on her shoulder, an increasingly ineffective gesture of comfort.

As she began to speak, her voice wavered and cracked. She wiped at her cheeks in embarrassment and frustration.

"Do you remember when we were little, the first time we went off the main road in the woods?" She was still hiccuping.

"Yes. I think."

"We were exploring, pretending to be great adventurers, and we got horribly lost."

Will did remember. He smiled at the memory.

"We walked for hours, still playing, until we finally made our way back to the completely opposite side of the village. We laughed about what a great adventure we had. Then you went home, and I went home. That night, I remember that in the middle of supper, I started crying."

Will withdrew his hand, and turned to look at her. Mara stared ahead of her, her voice steading as she continued.

"I suddenly realized how lost we had been, how close to real trouble. I kept thinking, 'We could have missed the path to the village so easily. I could have never seen John and Fanny again, never eaten supper with them again, and never slept in our house again.' I didn't understand how close to danger we were until after we had gotten through it."

"And now?"

Mara turned to face him, green eyes wide and unblinking. "Seeing you injured made me realize how much I hadn't wanted to worry that you might be dead."


	12. Chapter 12

Fanny returned from the center of the camp with a triumphant look on her face.

"You're going then?" Mara asked.

Fanny smiled. "If you want to talk with a bear, you have to know how to roar."

Mara laughed. Fanny was indomitable, of course she had gotten her way. Once she had succeeded in the initial demand that she go, it had been easy to convince Robin that Mara should go too. Mara's reasoning had been flawless. She could help just as well as Fanny. Also, she was a valuable asset if anyone, heaven forbid, should be injured. And if he said no, she would follow along anyway. There was no arguing with her.

"Of all the obstinate, bloody-minded..." John sputtered.

"She's your sister." Bull reasoned. If John couldn't deter her, he didn't assume anyone else would have much luck either.

"The Little family resemblance is uncanny." Robin laughed.

It was barely past mid-morning, and things were going terribly. A noose was being roughly forced over Wulf's head, and Will's neck was in no less danger.

The morning had started out well enough. The band of outlaws had started their journey to Nottingham well before the first hints of daylight. As the gates to the castle were opened, they made their way in and to their appointed locations. For a while, Mara had thought it was almost fun. Not only were they ignoring very deliberate rules for the day, they were actively defying them.

As she made her way to the wall to meet Fanny, she overheard Friar Tuck being confronted by a soldier. It was clearly taxing his imagination, but he managed to persuade the young man to leave them alone. Once he found that the soldiers speedily responded to the word leper, Friar Tuck seemed to start enjoying himself.

Mara's task was to take some of the arrows John had smuggled in and deliver them to Robin. She approached Fanny under the guise of selling the long-stemmed wildflowers she was carrying in a basket. John made a great show of purchasing one of the flowers, and giving it to Fanny with a kiss to the cheek. Mara deftly slipped as many arrows as she dared underneath the flowers, and made her way to meet Robin.

After delivering her deadly bouquet, she made her way to the center of the crowd. John had instructed, ordered, demanded and pleaded until she finally agreed. She was to stay towards the center with Will until his signal to cut the men down came. Under no circumstances was she to follow or to draw any unwelcome attention to herself. Still carrying the basket with the remaining flowers, and a few prepared salves hidden beneath, Mara made her way to the center of the throng. Will took her hand and led her towards the sounds of the drums.

They had not counted on the crowd separating so quickly. They had not assumed Wulf would recognize Will, or react so badly to seeing him. None of them had counted on it taking so long for Azeem to light the arrow. It was all falling apart before their eyes.

When the soldiers grabbed Will, Mara had instinctively started to protest. They found the sword on him, and suspicion had fallen on her as well. Will was drug first to the front of the crowd, and then up to the gallows. Mara tried her hardest to keep silent, but could not mask her emotion as they put the rope first around Wulf and then around Will. A soldier had roughly examined the contents of Mara's basket. Finding nothing that interested him, he threw it aside, scattering the ointments that meant nothing to him. It was clear that she had been with Will though, and the soldier took savage delight in preventing Mara's retreat.

He grabbed her roughly by the arm and drug her to the front of the crowd. She twisted and pulled in vain, but he was forcibly providing her an unobstructed view of Will's imminent death. Mara defiantly turned her head to her extreme left. The soldier savagely grabbed her by the hair and forced her to face forward. She eventually stopped struggling as the soldier would only respond by tightening his grip. She finally looked ahead of her.

Wulf seemed to be praying, looking to the sky for a miracle. Will's eyes were frantic, desperately scanning the crowd for more immediate help. His eyes briefly locked with Mara's. She resolutely showed no signs of pain or distress. Rather, she willed her eyes to convey every peaceful thought, every serene image, and every word of comfort imaginable. She could not aid him, but she would not cause him to worry about her.

The first arrow came as a welcome distraction. Mara could see nothing, but heard the voices of Fanny and John in the crowd. The soldier holding her had attempted to turn in the direction the arrow had come from, roughly wrenching Mara too. She would have no better chance, she thought. He had loosened his grip in his distraction, and Mara hit him as savagely as she knew how. Bringing her foot down on his, she simultaneously elbowed him in the stomach. The unexpected force knocked him briefly away. It was the little space of time she needed to start running.

She heard the distinct cry of Maid Marian yelling Robin's name before a barrage of crashes and yells. Mara was trying to make her way to Wulf, but also trying to evade the soldier who was now pursuing her. The confusion of the crowd was working to her advantage, blocking him in as she ducked and climbed up to the gallows. She found John had already arrived, but that the executioner was kicking away the stools supporting the other men.

The noise and confusion was impacting all of them, and Mara felt every decision was a poor one. Wulf was attempting to support one man as the others gasped and convulsed around him. She was trying to retrieve the little stools, and John was just trying to knock the whole bloody contraption over. Mara was chasing after one of the stools that had been knocked to the front of the crowd. It had been repeatedly kicked away, and when she finally caught it she had reached the opposite end of the gallows. Looking to her right, she saw the soldier had finally reached her. Looking to her left, an ax was poised over Will's head.

She heard the grim chuckle coming from the soldier, interrupted only by the sound of an arrow slicing through the air. Mara did not wait for the sound of the executioner hitting the ground before she bashed the soldier across the face with the stool. The pathetic little thing broke to pieces in her hands, and the soldier still stood before her. She had stunned him, however. His next fully clear thought was to realize Will was leaping off the gallows and coming for him.


	13. Chapter 13

Circumstances had dramatically changed at Nottingham Castle. There was considerably less fighting as most of the crowd found themselves siding with the rebellion, and the soldiers were retreating behind the gates and walls within the castle. Robin and Azeem had been sent in pursuit of Maid Marian in a rather fantastic style. The larger crowd was clearly wondering what they should do when Wulf explained about the prisoners.

In a clear, high voice, Wulf told his parents that some of the children from Sherwood had been taken. They were being held in one of the towers along with some of the adults captured in the attack in the forest. The crowd rallied to their cause as their anger and frustration was given a point of focus. A wave of people surged towards the gate, finally forcing it upwards through sheer brute force. Mara tried not to smile when she heard the sheriff referred to as a child-stealer. He had become the monstrous baby thief to Robin's good departed ghost in this fairy story, she thought.

Upon entering the inner castle, the crowd lost some of its central focus. Unsure where the children were being held, people began fanning out in different directions. Mara looked to Fanny in question of where they should go.

"Follow your nose." Fanny tapped her own.

She and Mara made their way to the kitchen of the castle with John, Wulf, and Will following. They were trying various doors, looking about and trying to get their bearings from the memory of their little wooden replica. Fanny's approach was much more direct.

"Do you know where the children are being held?" she asked one of the cooks.

"I may. Who wants to know?" The woman held no loyalty to the sheriff, certainly not in the face of this level of uprising. However, she did not want any ill to befall the young ones amidst all this violence.

"Those who wish to return them to their families, or to their friends if the sheriff's had their parents killed." Fanny's blunt answer reached the woman. She nodded.

"The north tower. That way." She directed them to a narrow path between the outer wall and the main castle. She also pressed a key in Fanny's palm. "The green door leads up to the third level where they're being held."

Encouraged, the group began to hurry in that direction. They rounded a corner and came to a wide courtyard. Visible ahead of them was the tower, and the green door. A second path fed into the courtyard and John saw another group making their way towards the tower. As John was signaling them towards the north tower, Will and Mara started running towards the door. Fanny followed close behind with the key. Will reached the door first, and Fanny tried to toss the key towards him. He missed the catch, and as he bent down to pick it up narrowly missed the two arrows aimed for his heart.

Will heard the sound of shouts, and looked in time to see Wulf and a host of others sending a shower of arrows at the two soldiers who were guarding the door from the opposite tower. He heard a ragged sigh from the other direction. He looked to where Mara had been standing, right at his side. It seemed an impossible sight, the arrows firmly planted just below her collarbone.

Mara felt an incredible stab of pain. The shock and pain confused her for a moment, and she looked down to try to determine the source. The sight of the two long shafts sticking out of her did not strike her as much as the growing ring of blood surrounding them. She watched with almost catatonic fascination as the ring grew larger, turning her dress dark. Looking up, she saw Will's face, close to her own. Watching his mouth move, she realized he was yelling her name, though the sound was increasingly distant and muffled. She didn't notice her legs giving out beneath her as her body sank to the ground. She still noticed the pain, but it began to feel more and more like it was happening to someone else. Her vision became more blurred, first at the edges. She focused on Will's face, his eyes the last thing she saw before everything faded into the dark.


	14. Chapter 14

It was a few torturous hours in the castle, though Will felt like it was days. He had nothing to do but think and reflect, and worry, as he sat outside the room she had been rushed into. Thankfully, the cook had followed behind them, still curious of their intentions. She had seen the injured girl, and shouted at them to attend to her before it was too late.

Will felt guilty now, but seeing all of the blood had convinced him she had died. It was John who had dove in, picking her up and rushing after the cook. Fanny had been close on John's heels, but turned back long enough to tell him she was still alive.

John sat down beside Will after being sent out of the room when they began to remove the first arrow. Wulf was sent out soon after. The boy was trying to keep a brave face, but was leaning into his father's side in search of some comfort. He looked at Will. The younger man was clearly distracted and upset.

"She'll be alright. I know she will." Wulf confidence arrested Will from his thoughts.

Facing the boy, Will realized he was trying to apologize. From what he understood of the Little family tendency towards stubbornness, Will accepted that this was the most he would ever get.

"Thanks Wulf."

Robin and Marian had eventually found them. Their flushed expressions of bliss had fallen quickly when confronted with the somber mood they encountered. Marian had speedily excused herself and entered the room. Robin sat with them, attempting to discern what had happened. John tried to explain, his voice thick with emotion. Will continued to wait, straining to hear any noises that might indicate what was happening behind the door.

When it was finally opened, Fanny's pale face greeted them. "She alright, but she's sleeping." She stepped back to let them enter just as the cook was trying to exit the room. In her arms, she carried an armload of linens soaked in blood. Despite Fanny's words Will felt his stomach drop.

He entered the room after John and Wulf. There was a small fire in the fireplace in the corner where Fanny stood. John went to her, embracing her. Marian stood against the wall near the bed. Her hands seemed restless with no other task than to hold on to one another.

Will walked up to the opposite side of the bed where Mara was sleeping. He was immediately stuck by her complexion. Her skin seemed deathly pale in contrast with her dark hair. Walking closer, he could see the blue of her veins clearly spread across her chest and neck almost like a spider's web. Faintly, almost imperceptibly, he saw the steady rise and fall of her breathing.

She was wearing a loose-fitting white shift with a blanket covering her to her waist. As Will reached her side, he noticed the strap of the shift hiding part of stitched-together wound on her left side. The black thread seemed a cruel mockery of the finely stitched tapestry hanging above her. Will sat, taking her right hand into his. Despite the warmness of the room, her skin was cool.

Will looked at Fanny and Marian, almost in accusation.

"She's lost a lot of blood, Will. It makes the body cold." Fanny said. "Same thing happened to me when I had my Iris. Thought I'd never be warm again."

John looked at Fanny in surprise. He hadn't been present for the birth of their youngest daughter and hadn't known. He put a protective arm around her shoulder.

Will attempted to pull the blanket over Mara to warm her. He was careful not to cover her shoulder, not wishing to aggravate the wound with the rough fabric. Though unconscious, Mara instinctively drew closer to his warmth. He sat on the bed with her and cautiously tried to warm her.

Marian and Robin had eventually left. Fanny was soon called for to look after Azeem as well as some other injured souls. As John turned to leave, he started at Will with a level gaze. He spoke no words, but his message was clearly understood. Will had no intention or desire to take any liberties. He simply wished for Mara be well again.

Finally lying beside her, Will carefully drew Mara into his arms. He didn't notice as the warmth began to return to her hands and face. Listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing, he also fell asleep.


	15. Chapter 15

Mara awoke in the murky half-light of dusk. Startled, she scanned the room for some clue as to where she was, and why. The heavy, throbbing pain coming from below her collarbone encouraged her not to stir too much. Her stiff, half-movements roused Will, still lying beside her. He awoke to the steady gaze of her clear, green eyes.

A meal of soup and bread had been left for them, long since cooled as it sat in front of the dying fire. As they ate, Will tried to explain all that had happened. He was tender and attentive, but Mara was caught off guard by how exhausted she became from something so simple as sitting up. She did not resist when he encouraged her to go back to sleep.

"Please, stay." Mara said as Will made his way to the door. He strode back to her side, and settled back beside her. "For a while."

They spoke in hushed whispers all through the night. Mara shared that she always believed she would be brought to death's door by bearing a child, not being struck by an arrow. She spoke of her childhood and her father. Mara tried to forgive him, but all she recalled of the broken man was his grief, his neglect, and his anger. He made certain she was very aware her violent entry into the world had hastened her mother's departure from it. With tears welling in her eyes, Mara whispered that she had vowed never to marry, never to become a mother, in hopes of sparing another child this fate.

As she spoke, Will felt a completeness to her presence. For the first time, it seemed she was fully there. He understood better the special terror she had of childbirth, and the risk she had come to associate with binding herself to anyone.

"Binding herself to me." he thought, remembering her tears in the forest.

Will had held her more tightly, and whispered over and over he would not lose her again, that this was not her fate, and that she was meant for a long life.

"Death comes for all of us, Will. I understand that now." She tucked her head under his chin. "I'll no longer go on living a half-life, paralyzed by fear." Will felt he would never be able to hold her close enough.

He fell asleep content that, likely for the first time, he had given comfort and protection to someone else. He felt like an adult, worthy of the hopes and dreams that came unbidden every time he looked at her. Mara remembered little of her dream that night, save the feeling of utter bliss and the sound of laughter.

After that day at the castle, they had all eventually gone their separate ways. Some returned to the village while others returned to the forest. It felt too strange for them, trying to immediately jump back into a normal life. Will accompanied Robin for a short time, back to Sherwood. Robin was adamant that work remained there for them to complete, and Will was grateful for the tasks waiting for them. It helped in distracting him from the fact that he had no home to return to in the village. Robin's plan had been to aid the people in returning to their homes before traveling to his family's recently returned lands. Will noticed that Robin's plans had all included him. Though it was in ruins, it appeared he did have a home to go to.

John and Fanny hadn't considered any option but returning to the village. They knew there were many readjustments in store with the entire family living together, but both were thankful for such burdens. John hoped for nothing but a quiet, peaceful life. Fanny hoped he would soon accept that peace and quiet didn't exist in a home with eight children.

The invitation had been extended for Mara to return with them. Somehow, it didn't seem right though. It was a new beginning for Fanny and John, and though she loved them all dearly, Mara sensed it was time for her to leave. Marian had presented another offer, and Mara had been inclined to accept. She suggested that Mara return with her to her home, giving the younger girl more time to heal. Though Fanny and John would have given her all the love and support she needed, Mara was grateful for the time and the quiet Marian's offer gave her.

When Will eventually found her there, life in the home of Marian Dubois had provided another opportunity. Marian's impending marriage led to a discussion with Mara about how best to continue the work Marian had started. Marian found the girl more than capable, a natural healer and passionately committed to helping the people of Nottingham. She asked Mara to begin assisting her, and to carry on in her stead when Marian was away.

As she entered the courtyard to join him, Will was surprised at how well Mara looked. Only her arm resting in a sling betrayed that she had recently been injured. Her eyes were bright as she enthusiastically described all Marian was teaching her about managing the lands and running the castle. When she finally paused from her excited chatter, Will couldn't resist. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

They talked for hours that day. Will described Robin's plans for returning Locksley Castle to its former glory. He gently held her hand within his own calloused ones. He shared his certainty that his future, his destiny, was bound to his brother and to these lands. Mara traced her finger over the scar on the back of his right hand. It struck her how much things can change from one day to the next.

Though he did not ask for her hand, they did speak about a future together. Things were still very unsettled when he prepared to leave that evening, but she felt at peace with this. Will still had no definite role or trade, and Mara knew him well enough to know he would not consider starting a family until he could provide for one. Her memory of their childhood together was filled with hundreds of vows made to his own future children, promising a life better than his.

At this thought, her expression changed. Will noticed the flicker of doubt and fear. Cupping his hand to the side of her face, he brushed his thumb across her cheek, refocusing her attention. His gesture brought a smile to her lips.

"Remember, Mara, a life without fear."

Before he left that evening, she returned the little leather sling to him. "I'm not a soldier, not a warrior," she whispered, "I'm a healer." Will searched his memory for any other time she had seemed so at ease with herself. She finally seemed at peace with her life, and the direction it was taking her.

Will was brought back from his reflections as Mara attempted to collect his things using only her right arm. Knowing better than to attempt to intervene, Will tried to be patient. When she had finally succeeded, he embraced her with a bemused look on his face. Life with Mara Little was bound to be everything but boring.


	16. Chapter 16

Will was trying not to feel ridiculous. It was a happy day, a day of celebration. Robin and Marian were being married, the entire village was there in full support, and even the forest itself seemed to have been adorned in finery for the occasion. The youngest son of the House of Locksley was also well dressed for this auspicious event, and feeling both uncomfortable and absurd.

Looking across the way, he noted that Mara looked bright and fair. She stood behind Sarah, aiding with the bride's train and holding the flowers. Stealing sideways glances, Will noticed that Mara continued to favor her right arm. She was trying to hold the two heavy bouquets in her right arm, carrying a much lighter basket on her left.

Though she had regained almost all of the mobility in her injured arm, she was still tentative and afraid she might somehow re-injure it. Her wound was healing quickly and a crescent shaped scar forming. (Though how he knew this was a matter he did not care to discuss, especially with John.) Will looked to where he knew it was concealed beneath her dress. Mara turned her head, and smiled to catch him gazing at her.

She had noticed his posture, and his obvious discomfort in the fine clothing he now wore. It was clear he preferred life as an acknowledged son of a lord, but he would always bear the stance of an outlaw. Despite everything, Will still stood between two worlds. He would never be fully accepted as a nobleman, yet he would never be just another peasant.

Despite this, Mara hoped that Will understood; he would always be surrounded by friends.

It was at this moment that Will had been thinking similar thoughts about Mara. He understood that neither of their paths in life were clear, and certainly would not always be easy. Facing the future together, though, he felt a sense of confidence. As long as he had the love of this obstinate girl, he would always have a home.

The sun dipped in the sky, and the clinging rays of amber light seemed to ignite the turning leaves. The cheers of celebration were cradled within the thick serenity of forest.


End file.
